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FIC: X-Book 1: New Allies New Enemies, PG-13, Chpt 7

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  • Kathleen
    X-Book 1: New Allies New Enemies - Chapter 7 - Mary Reflects Rating: PG-13 By: Kath713/Leen713 Summary: (See Book 1: Prologue) Disclaimer: I own nothing
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 1, 2004
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      X-Book 1: New Allies New Enemies - Chapter 7 - Mary Reflects

      Rating: PG-13

      By: Kath713/Leen713

      Summary: (See Book 1: Prologue)

      Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with characters from the Marvel
      universe or any previously published work.

      Crossover: Mary, from the movie "The Prophecy" (Not a Mary Sue,
      never will be I swear.)

      ***

      Chapter Seven:

      The night wind was cool as Mary Sloane drove back from town towards
      the small house she and her grandmother called home. She had the
      windows of her jeep down and the headlights cut through the dark
      land as she drove, the only beacons she had to ensure that she was
      still on the highway. As she reached the top of one hill, she could
      make out the far off mountains by their dark silhouettes against the
      clear starry sky.

      The world around her was very quiet, very peaceful, and a small
      smiled touched her face as she drove on. Even without the lights
      from her car, she could have navigated her way home without a second
      thought. She had lived in this valley her entire life and knew
      every hill and turn as if they were apart of herself.

      After she pulled onto the bare stretch of ground of her driveway,
      Mary put the car in park and shut off the engine. She knew her
      grandmother would be waiting for her, despite the late hour, and she
      hesitated before going into the house.

      Tomorrow was the day her grandmother had arranged to have the people
      from Xavier's School of the Gifted meet them, and Mary suddenly
      felt
      a strange uncertainty about their expected guests. They had told
      her grandmother that only two of the teachers would be flying out to
      Arizona, but she had known since the first phone call that there
      would be three on that flight.

      Charles woke up, she heard the vague cognition echoing in her mind
      and she sighed. She had heard those words nearly eight months ago,
      and out of everything she had felt that day, that had made the least
      sense to her...at least, until she learned about Charles Xavier and
      his school.

      But, could he be the same person that her vision had spoken of? She
      could not say for certain...but her instincts said it was.

      If this Charles was the same man, then it was very possible that he
      was responsible for nearly killing millions (if not billions) of
      people. The idea of someone that powerful disturbed her a little.
      One man with the power to touch every mind on earth...and destroy
      them all with only a thought...what kind of burden to carry, what
      kind of weapon to possess.

      She had done some research online about Xavier's School for the
      Gifted, but she found very little clear information about their work
      with mutants. The school itself did not have its own homepage, so
      all her sources were secondary. She could learn even less about the
      faculty and Xavier himself.

      She supposed that made sense, however, considering the country's
      general opinions about mutants. It did not always pay to advertise
      and she was sure they would not be short of applicants considering
      how many more mutants had been coming forward recently. It was a
      shame that anti-mutant groups still vastly outnumbered groups that
      supported mutants.

      Mutants, she thought the word with some relief. She had never been
      able to define herself and her gifts by any concrete terms. The
      elders did not even have a name for what she could do or what had
      occurred in her life. The experiences she had as a child were
      almost beyond explanation, and the few people who had witnessed them
      were quickly disappearing.

      All she could remember herself was that the angels had come to her,
      given her something to hide because she was special, until the
      elders were able to send what she had been given back where it
      belonged.

      God, she wished she could remember more than that. Afterwards, the
      elders and her grandmother refused to speak about what had happened,
      saying it would bring the terror back to their people, so she could
      not get any more information from them. Anyone else who had been
      there had either moved away...or was dead.

      Mary sighed again and leaned her head back against the driver's
      seat, her mind reeling with hundreds of visions and memories. She
      hoped, if anything, the people from Xavier's School would be able
      to
      help her sort out all those thoughts. Maybe if she could somehow
      remember, just a little bit of what had happened in those few days
      when she was ten, she could learn how to better manage her
      `gifts.'

      After another moment, she opened the door to her jeep and stepped
      out, starting the short trek up to her house. Through the dark, she
      could see the small light from her grandmother's room and she
      grinned.

      In the face of all her doubts and fears, that one light eased her
      more than anything else in the world. No matter what happened or
      where she may go, she knew there was always one person she could
      always come home to.

      Mary took the last few steps to the front door, past two small
      stretches of desert flowers which her grandmother tended. She was
      still smiling as she entered the house and called to her grandmother
      in a cheerful whisper.

      "Nana…I'm home."

      She shut the door to against the night, and left her troubles for
      the morning.

      ***

      The lights coming from the small house in the Arizona desert clicked
      out shortly after Mary's return home and the land became quiet
      and
      still.

      The cool night wind continued to blow across the hills, and past the
      small garden at the front steps.

      Though no one would ever notice, the small flowering plants closest
      to where Mary stepped had bloomed, despite the chilly March air, as
      if some passing force had made them think it was already spring.
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